


Slow Burn

by aoigensou



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Chocolate, Coming In Pants, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Rare Pairings, Sexual Fantasy, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-06 18:25:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aoigensou/pseuds/aoigensou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yashiro is attending university in Tokyo, and has become good friends with Shindou.  He feels like the busiest person on earth, yet somehow lets Shindou monopolize what little free time he has.  The problem, though, is the more time he spends with him, the more his feelings seem to be changing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [very](https://archiveofourown.org/users/very/gifts), [hostilecrayon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostilecrayon/gifts).



> This was written for the 2012 Hikago Team Deathmatch, for team Fandom Triforce. The prompt was "sweet".

Yashiro Kiyoharu lives for Fridays at 4 pm. It is at that time on the dot when Professor Tomoda dismisses the Comparative Politics class for the day, wishing them a productive weekend. He has a paper due, but he’s free from lectures for the next three days, and can focus on other things for a while. He gathers his things and walks out of the classroom, waving off invitations to stay and chat, or go out and do things with the girls in the class. For some reason he hasn’t yet fathomed, university has turned him into quite a hot commodity even while being a Go nerd.

Well. Not spreading around that he’s a Go professional is probably part of it. He knows he certainly doesn’t look the type to most people, unless they’re familiar with other recent pros.

It's a mild day, and Kiyoharu is in no hurry to get to the bus. The shade of the trees casts shadows on the paving stones that line the campus paths, and to either side of him multistory buildings reach toward the sky, a stately brick façade to his left and sleek steel and glass to his right. There are other students milling around the entrances to each of the buildings, and for the most part Kiyoharu ignores them. He's finished with classes for the day, and is looking forward to some time away from school. He feels as though nearly all his time is spent either at school or at the Ki'in, with barely enough time to sleep after his homework is completed.

Kiyoharu hears his name being called and pauses just outside the entrance of the glass and steel building, the student lounge. There is a group of three guys he vaguely recognizes leaning against the boulder set to the left of the entrance. One of them -- wearing a lime green polo shirt that makes Kiyoharu wince -- is waving at him, and as he halts his footsteps the guy approaches him with a grin.

"Hey Yashiro-kun," he says, and Kiyoharu really wishes he could remember where he knows this guy from so he could begin to dredge up a name to go with the face so he can greet him properly.

"Hey," he says instead, feeling like a jerk of the highest order. He discreetly reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone, looking for an excuse to end this conversation before he embarrasses himself too badly.

"I was just talking about you with those guys," Green Polo Shirt gestures to the two still leaning against the boulder. Kiyoharu glances over at them, then politely smiles at Green Polo Shirt.

"Is that so?" he asks. "Nothing bad I hope."

"No way, you're a legend in the club," Green Polo Shirt says. Something about Kiyoharu's face must have tipped him off that he’s completely clueless about who he is, because Green Polo Shirt starts laughing. "I'm Yasutada Fumihiko, the vice president of the Go club here," he explains, and finally it dawns on Kiyoharu where he's seen the guy before. When he first started school they tried to recruit him as a sort of student adviser for the club.

"Oh," he says with a sheepish smile. "I thought I recognized you."

"No big deal," Yasutada says with a shrug. "But we were all impressed with your performance at last year's Hokutohai. All three of your performances! Sweeping both Korea AND China? It's just too bad Ko Yeong-ha wasn't eligible last year so he could have taken part in the stomping Team Japan gave everyone!" Kiyoharu laughs at the enthusiasm Yasutada is showing, and one of the guys by the entrance to the student lounge whoops at his proclamation.

"Yeah it was a good year for us," he admits, trying to keep a modicum of humility in his voice. But he _is_ proud of their performance. It was the fourth year for Team Japan to be comprised of himself, Shindou, and Touya, and none of them wanted their last eligible year to be anything less than spectacular. He’s glad that it was, and that he could have been part of the effort to show that Japan is still a contender in the world of Go, but he really doesn’t have the time to stand around discussing that.

"You should come play with our Go club," Yasutada pushes the conversation forward before Kiyoharu can find a way to excuse himself politely. "We'd be sure to kick some ass at the next tournament if a pro came and gave us a few pointers."

Kiyoharu sighs mentally. In a way, he's been expecting this for a while. The only thing that's surprising is that the Go club has taken an entire year to hunt him down and ask him since the first time they had at the entrance ceremony. "You couldn't afford me," he says with an apologetic shake of his head.

Yasutada pulls an exaggerated face. "Come on, how about a freebie for your senpai?"

The thing is, if Kiyoharu had the time he wouldn't mind coming to a meeting or two of the Go club to play with them. He wouldn't even charge. But things are so hectic with school combined with his shidougo commitments. The preliminary rounds for the Gosei tournament are starting up, and Kiyoharu is looking forward to playing some of the better players after slogging his way through the first rounds. His time is not his own, and when he can steal some it's usually spent with Shindou playing Go or doing something else -- video games, shopping, going out to eat. Even when it doesn't have something to do with Go, it usually ends with them playing anyway. That way it's easier to justify the use of time as Go study.

"Hey, I gotta make a living somehow," he replies to Yasutada, shrugging one shoulder.

"At least think about it," Yasutada says, giving Kiyoharu's arm a friendly punch as he starts to head back to the other two members of the Go club. Kiyoharu is relieved he doesn't have to think of a reason to bow out of the conversation.

"Good luck with the tournament," he says instead of answering. Getting their hopes up wouldn't do anyone any good, but saying 'no' outright just seems rude.

As Yasutada rejoins his friends, he calls out once more, "THINK ABOUT IT!" Kiyoharu admires his enthusiasm and persistence, but he just shakes his head as he starts walking again.

The glint of something off the glass of the student lounge grabs his attention, and Kiyoharu turns in time to catch sight of a shock of cherry-red hair. He feels his stomach drop as he reflexively turns to find the person attached to the hair coming out of the building behind him. It's been months since he's seen him, but Kiyoharu would recognize him anywhere. His hair has grown out somewhat so his roots are longer than the red is now, but the long, sideswept bangs and stylish square glasses are the same.

'Inoue-senpai,' he doesn't say. The pace of his heart most definitely doesn't pick up. And when he sees Inoue's arm around the same girl he recognizes from when he returned from winter break during his first year, all he feels is a vague sense of hollow emptiness where the feelings for the first person he’d ever slept with used to be.

Kiyoharu stands there in the middle of the pathway for longer than is appropriate, staring at the senpai he'd had a fling with -- well, Kiyoharu had thought it was more than a fling, but Inoue apparently had other thoughts regarding it if he could replace him without a second thought, or even a word to him beforehand. Panic fills him when he sees that Inoue has seen him, and his senpai has scarcely quirked his lips in an awkward-looking smile and raised his hand before Kiyoharu has spun on his heel and started walking in the opposite direction as fast as he can, running away while trying to seem as though he isn't.

Kiyoharu’s phone vibrates in his pocket with an incoming call as he’s reaching for it to retrieve it and check his messages in an attempt at looking natural. The pace he’s set isn’t helping to slow his heartbeat, so when he feels he’s a safe distance away from the student lounge he slows down to look at the digital readout. He’s only marginally surprised when the caller ID readout informs him that Shindou is calling him. He presses the button to accept the call, glad of the distraction.

“What’s up?” Kiyoharu asks without preamble.

“You busy?” Shindou says, sounding annoyed. Kiyoharu can hear the faint sound of voices in the background, as well as the telltale click-clack of Go stones. It doesn’t take much thought to figure out where he is.

“Yeah, kind of.” It’s not a dodge, he has a paper due in a week he really shouldn’t blow off until the last minute. Almost-encounter with Inoue notwithstanding, if Kiyoharu wants to stay ahead in his classes while attending to all his pro responsibilities, he needs to take every opportunity he can to get things done.

“Well make yourself un-busy,” Shindou insists. Kiyoharu can hear the grin through the phone, and wonders what he’s got planned. Part of him wants to blow off his homework without a second thought, but the more rational part knows he can’t.

“Why don’t you give your wife a call or something?” he asks testily, annoyed at himself that he can’t just say no. He knows the longer he stays on the phone with Shindou, the more likely he is to eventually give in.

“Dude, you need to stop calling Touya that or else he’s gonna punch you or something,” Shindou says, sounding serious. The thought of Touya punching anyone is enough to make him crack a smile, and he shakes his head even though he knows Shindou can’t see him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kiyoharu says, the smile seeping into his voice, “I’d like to see that happen.” It’s a running joke between the two of them. He would never disrespect Touya like this to his face; he looks up to him too much. But the ease with which he can rile Shindou up with a few well-placed words regarding Touya makes him an easy target when the two of them are together.

“Just get over here,” Shindou orders, and Kiyoharu feels his resolve weakening. “Kawai-san is getting on my nerves.”

“Oh, so you need me to rescue you, huh?” he teases.

“You’re a huge jerk, Kansai,” Shindou gripes, making Kiyoharu laugh.

“Yeah well you need this huge jerk apparently.”

“Are you coming or not?” Shindou asks. Kiyoharu is silent for a moment, before sighing and giving in. It was pretty futile to refuse, he rationalized, since Shindou would just keep calling and bothering him if he said no. He’d never get anything done with that happening.

“Yeah, yeah,” he repeats with a wry smile, “keep your panties on. I’ll be there in a while.” Sighing, Kiyoharu shakes his head again.

“Okay awesome. Great! See you soon. You’re the best!” As Kiyoharu presses the button to end the call he can’t help but wonder when Shindou was able to turn him into such a pushover. He figures he must be able to do it to all his friends.

When he walks into Dougenzaka, he's greeted by the owner's wife with as much courtesy as she shows anyone; that is to say not very much. But since he's a pro he's automatically exempt from the biting sarcasm she usually displays. Since he's almost as much a regular as Shindou is these days, she waves him by without asking for the table fee, and Kiyoharu offers her a polite bow in thanks before turning around and looking for Shindou. It's not difficult to pick out his friend's two-toned hair, even when it's being mussed out of place by Kawai-san.

"Yashiro-pro!" Kawai-san calls out when he spots Kiyoharu, and he lifts a hand in greeting as Shindou tries to pat his hair back in place with grumbled vows of retribution.

"Hi Kawai-san," Kiyoharu greets, turning the chair across from Shindou around and straddling it. He sees a pile of torn candy wrappers next to the goban, and two bowls filled with what look like Mentos. Purple and red Mentos. He wrinkles his nose at the sight of the purple. Artificial grape was definitely one of his least favorite flavors.

"Maybe you can talk some sense into him, Yashiro-pro," Kawai-san declares, and Kiyoharu watches the mutinous expression bloom across Shindou's face.

"You call him 'Yashiro-pro', why don't you call me 'Shindou-pro'?" He asks, sounding more like a petulant child than a professional anything.

"Shindou-kun will always be Shindou-kun," Kawai-san declares without explaining himself, and Kiyoharu can't help but chuckle at the pout Shindou wears at the declaration.

"What am I talking sense into him for, Kawai-san?" Kiyoharu asks to distract Shindou from further childishness -- not that it ever helps.

"I asked him for a game, but he said he was too busy unwrapping candy to play," Kawai-san says, sounding outraged.

"Because I was! These aren't as easy to open as they look!" Shindou cries out; Yashiro can see other Dougenzaka patrons shaking their heads or rolling their eyes. Shindou might be a favorite around here, but that doesn't mean they're ignorant of some of his sillier tendencies.

"What I don't understand is why," Kawai-san says, crossing his arms over his chest. He can tell Shindou wants to argue for the sake of arguing at this point, so he interjects before he can say anything.

"I thought you called me over to play a game," Kiyoharu says, drawing Shindou's attention from Kawai-san to himself. Shindou grins at him, nodding at the bowls full of candy.

"I did. But I thought I'd make it interesting for us. Not that Go isn't interesting by itself," Shindou tears open the last roll of what looks like cola-flavored Mentos and dumps them into the bowl. He doesn't speak as he works at the ones stuck in the bottom of the package, but when it's empty and the wrapper is discarded on the pile next to the goban Shindou points to each bowl. "These are gonna be our stones."

Kiyoharu blinks, raising an eyebrow. Sure, Mentos are shaped similarly to Go stones, but why go out of the way when actual Go stones are perfectly serviceable? "Bored with black and white?" he ventures.

Shindou has the audacity to roll his eyes. "Psh, no. These are edible."

"Wow, I didn't know that. Thank you for that interesting bit of knowledge," Kiyoharu snipes, lifting his messenger bag full of textbooks off his shoulder. He ducks his head so the strap doesn't get caught in his hair, and drops the bag to the floor with an audible thud.

"Shut up," Shindou says, and if Kiyoharu hadn't been looking at him he would have sworn he'd stuck out his tongue. "I mean that means we can use special rules since they're edible."

"Ah," Kiyoharu says. He doesn't yet follow what the special rules are going to be, but if he knows anything about Shindou it's that he'll let him know eventually. Standing, he turns the chair back around so he can sit normally in it.

"Sounds kind of pointless to me," Kawai-san mutters from behind Shindou, and Kiyoharu suspects it's because he doesn't get to play Shindou today. He can't feel too badly, since he's got a pretty sweet deal being one of Shindou's favorite Dougenzaka customers. Shindou ignores the comment, and Kawai-san sits down at the end of the table, facing them in profile.

"Pick a flavor," Shindou says, offering both bowls to him. Kiyoharu automatically points at the bowl full of red candies. If this is going to involve eating, he's going to avoid the grape at all costs. Shindou hands him the red and he picks one out and pops it into his mouth.

"Not bad," he says as he chews.

"Hey, don't eat them, we need them to play!" Shindou protests. Kiyoharu puts the bowl down where the goke would normally sit and shrugs. "So the way this'll work is that whenever one of us captures a stone we have to eat it. I call it 'Cannibal Go'."

"That's a dumb name dude," he says automatically.

"No way, it's an awesome name. We eat the prisoners, so we're cannibals," Shindou explains needlessly, giving Kiyoharu a wounded look.

"Whatever," he replies, frowning. Since Shindou has the grape, that means any 'stones' he captures he has to eat. "Eugh, trade me flavors then," he orders.

"No way, no takebacks," Shindou says, pulling his bowl out of Kiyoharu's reach.

"I don't eat grape," Kiyoharu insists. "Plus, I've seen how you handle your stones, your fingers are all over them. I don't know where you've been. You expect me to eat candies you've been fondling?"

"Geez," Shindou says in exasperation, "I'll go wash my hands if it'll make you happy. But we're not trading. You picked so you have to live with it."

"That was before you told me the rules," Kiyoharu says, his frown deepening. Shindou shrugs, and he has to resist the urge to reach over the goban and smack his stupid head. "You did that on purpose," he mutters mutinously, slouching back against the the chair back. Shindou doesn't deny it, and after a beat Kiyoharu's mouth twists into a crooked smile as he shrugs, giving in. He'll just have to win without taking any prisoners. "So who goes first?"

"We can janken or something to figure that out." Shindou holds out his hand over the goban, Kiyoharu mirroring him. Shindou throws out paper, while he throws scissors.

"Guess that makes me black," he declares needlessly, and Shindou shrugs with a half-smile. Spitefully, Kiyoharu eats another of his candies from the bowl before setting one down, claiming a corner. The candy doesn't make as satisfying a sound as a go stone on the goban, but Kiyoharu doesn't pay that much mind. He's more concerned about how he's going to win without taking any stones.

They start laying stones, and Kiyoharu doesn’t play anything flashy or unusual drawing a quirked eyebrow from Shindou as they go through the steps of fuseki, claiming territory and readying themselves for the inevitable battles to be had. He’s being more conservative than he’s used to, and it feels especially wrong against Shindou since he’s used to pushing boundaries and flaunting accepted gameplay with him, but his desire to not have to eat one of Shindou’s stones trumps his zeal for new and interesting hands. But that doesn’t mean he has to lose, either. Being conservative doesn’t mean being a loser.

They’re about twenty-five hands into the game when Shindou captures one of his stones. Kiyoharu doesn’t much care at first, until Shindou waves it in front of his face. “What?” he asks, the annoyance clear in his voice.

“This is gonna be awesome,” Shindou says, tossing the candy into his mouth and making a show of chewing slowly. Kiyoharu wants to throw a goke at him, and allows himself a short fantasy of how it would look with the black stones scattered everywhere, and a large red spot in the middle of Shindou’s forehead. “Oh man this is the best flavor ever,” Shindou practically moans, and Kiyoharu kicks him under the table.

“Dude, you are a huge douche,” he says, eyes narrowed. Shindou isn’t offended, he just takes the opportunity to laugh. Kiyoharu mocks him, mimicking the laugh in a high-pitched voice that sounds nothing like Shindou. “Ha ha ha ha ha, shut up.”

“Whatever man,” Shindou shrugs. “I’m totally winning this.”

“In your dreams.”

Fifteen hands later, Kiyoharu sighs heavily as he looks at the board, regretting his cocky words. There's no way he can continue without taking any stones, not if he doesn't want to get stomped by Shindou. Shindou is good, but if there's one thing he's proud of it's his ability to keep pace with him fairly well. He may not win every one of their games together, but his margin of loss isn't usually as embarrassing as he's setting himself up for.

He's going to have to eat a prisoner.

Placing his stone, he picks up the grape Mentos he just captured, staring at it with a baleful eye. He can see Shindou grinning eagerly at him, and wonders why this is so fascinating to him.

"Well?" Shindou asks, and Kiyoharu can practically hear the glee dripping from his voice. He stifles a groan and shoves the obnoxiously purple disk into his mouth, chewing and swallowing as quickly as he can. It's too sweet and the flavor is nothing like any grape Kiyoharu has ever eaten. Whoever invented artificial grape had obviously never tasted one before. He makes a face at the flavor, taking a sip of the tea the owner had thoughtfully placed next to him when he hadn't been paying attention.

"That was gross," Kiyoharu states, to which Shindou starts cackling.

"You should have seen your face!" he laughs. Kiyoharu rolls his eyes. "Man what is your problem with grape?"

"There is nothing even vaguely grape about that," Kiyoharu says, pointing at a group of purple in the upper left. "At least other flavors usually taste like what they're supposed to." He makes another face at the memory of the taste, and Shindou cracks up even more. Annoyed, Kiyoharu takes a red candy and flicks it at Shindou. Unfortunately, his friend has better reflexes than Kiyoharu had been counting on, and moves out of the way in time for the candy to go sailing past his head and straight into the neck of the customer sitting behind him. The older man turns around curiously, and Kiyoharu feels his cheeks light up with an ashamed blush.

"Sorry 'bout that," he mutters, trying to sink into the floor but just succeeding in slouching down in the chair a few inches. The man laughs and shakes his head, plucking the candy out of his collar.

"It's okay, Yashiro-pro. We know how Shindou-pro gets under your skin sometimes. He's an expert at it." The rest of the customers in earshot chuckle at the perceived truth of the words.

At the declaration and resulting laughter, Kiyoharu leans forward, burying his face in his hands in embarrassment. If the patrons aren't even surprised about Shindou being able to rile him up, then he's obviously coming here too often. If he were smart he'd avoid coming to Dougenzaka for a while.

Imagining the whining Shindou would throw at him if he tried doing that is the only thing that stops him from considering that thought further.

He hears Shindou place a hand, and he looks up, considering the board. He's played carefully, so his position isn't as bad as it could be, but Shindou still has a comfortable lead he can protect. It's still fairly early, though, and if Kiyoharu plays carefully he can turn it around. Laying a stone, he returns his concentration to the game, and judging by the soft ambience of stones hitting wood he can tell everyone else has as well.

A few hands later while Shindou is considering the possibilities, Kiyoharu leans forward conspiratorially. "Hey, so why don't you bring Touya here?" he asks.

"No way," Shindou says automatically, sounding distracted. His eyes never leave the board. "The old guys here would forget I even exist if I brought him around."

Before Kiyoharu can comment on that, Kawai-san speaks up. "We wouldn't forget you exist, Shindou-kun," he says with a grin and a wink Shindou doesn't see. "You're like a bad penny."

This is enough to draw Shindou's attention away from the game, just long enough to stick his tongue out at Kawai-san. All he receives in return is another ruffling of hair.

"Hey!" he cries out, trying to swat Kawai-san's hand away from his hair. "You're messing it up!"

Kiyoharu doesn't point out that it had been messed up when he'd arrived, figuring Shindou doesn't need the hair angst to deal with. "Shindou, you can fix it later," he offers, trying to calm things down.

"You should bring Touya-pro," Kawai-san insists, ignoring Kiyoharu completely. He feels a flash of irritation, but tamps it down. Shindou is annoyed enough for the both of them, after all.

"No way," Shindou refuses flat out, finally succeeding at shoving Kawai-san away. He combs his fingers through his bangs to try and fluff them up, pouting when it's not very successful. So much for avoiding hair angst. Kiyoharu tries not to smile, but something about Shindou with his hair out of place in public is so different from the norm as to be a novelty. Shindou sees the smile and gives him a hurt look.

"Don't look at me like that, Shindou," Kiyoharu says, still smiling. "You look fine. So stop obsessing and play." Shindou takes the time to stick his tongue out at Kiyoharu, then pulls a purple candy out of the bowl to play his hand. Kiyoharu answers the hand, and they fall into the rhythm of the game once more.

As they continue playing, Kiyoharu lets himself feel a small spark of pleasure at the fact Shindou lets him come to Dougenzaka. He's so close to Touya, he would have expected him to have been here before, but even if Shindou doesn't mean it that way Kiyoharu feels special. At the same time, though, he wonders if he should take it as a compliment. After all, it means Shindou thinks Kiyoharu won't take any attention away from him. If it's a compliment, it's a backhanded one when he thinks of it that way. In the end, though, he doesn't really mind. He can understand Shindou needing to have a place where he's the celebrity after spending a lot of his free time with Touya and the resulting furor that tends to result from his name alone.

Lost in thought, he’s allowed Shindou to set the pace, and he’s drawn them into a game of speed Go. It’s nothing new; most of the games they play are speedy ones, but he had been taking his time up until now to allow himself ample time to plot his moves. Speed Go is partially based on intuition, and it can be a dangerous thing. Later, he’ll kick himself for not realizing something was afoot when Shindou’s expression takes on an angelic innocence as he makes his next move.

Before he can even think about it, Kiyoharu places his own stone, and by the look of Shindou's triumphant grin he knows he's done something stupid. Studying the board, he tries to figure out what Shindou sees. His move hadn't been a bad one, he's captured five of Shindou's stones after all.

As soon as that thought registers, his heart -- and stomach -- sinks. Five stones means five pieces of candy to eat. "You let me capture those on purpose," he accuses, and Shindou doesn't bother to deny it.

"Just seeing if you were paying attention," he says airily, and Yashiro picks up each purple disk of poison and drops them in his left palm all while glaring halfheartedly at Shindou. His shoulders slump as he stares at the small pile in his hand. He should not feel like he's being defeated when the outcome is still up in the air, yet here he is feeling like a big fat loser because of a few stupid candies.

"This is not funny," Kiyoharu says, his fingers closing around the captured 'stones'. This only serves to make Shindou laugh at him for real, a laugh that resounds through the room clear and crisp.

"It's hilarious," he contradicts, and Kiyoharu wrinkles his nose. "Come on Yashiro, you have to eat them or you have to forfeit."

Oh hell no, Kiyoharu isn't going down without a fight. Stubbornly, he shoves two of the Mentos into his mouth, briefly flirting with the idea of just swallowing them whole. Dying of choking in the middle of a game of Cannibal Go -- he still thinks the name is pretty dumb -- would be one of the worst ways he could think of to die, right behind gruesome murder and his limbs falling off from whatever horrible disease Shindou is probably harboring on his hands. So he chews them a few times, but swallowing them is more of an ordeal. The taste lingers, and as he bores a hole through the remaining three candies with his stare, he just can't do it.

"Okay no, screw this. These are disgusting. I resign." Very deliberately, Kiyoharu extends his hand just far enough to upend it, dumping the captured stones onto the goban. The force of the falling pieces causes several of the others to skitter off the board and onto the table, disturbing the pile of wrappers and sending them cascading to the floor.

"Hey!" Shindou protests. "You can't do that!"

"You just said I could," Kiyoharu points out, taking another swallow of the tea. It had gone lukewarm sometime between his last capture and now, but he doesn't care as long as it can get rid of the aftertaste somewhat. "So I am."

At the end of the table, Kawai-san starts laughing really hard, drowning out Shindou's wordless noises of protest. Kiyoharu would feel accomplished at having both caused quite the commotion as well as rendered Shindou speechless from shock or indignation, but all he can muster is a vague sense of relief that his slow, voluntary torture is over.

Shindou usually has good ideas of how to change up their games so they're always fun and interesting, but he's going to refuse to play Cannibal Go with him in the future unless he gets to pick the candy flavors.

Kiyoharu starts gathering up the red candies to replace in the bowl, wondering what Shindou is planning on doing with so much sugar. It wouldn't surprise him if he ends up eating them all, he just hopes Shindou decides to do it when Kiyoharu isn't around to feel obligated to play conscience. As he shoves the purple disks across the goban, he catches sight of Shindou making a forlorn face at him. He groans mentally, rolling his eyes.

"Come on Shindou, it was fun but I have a ton of homework to do so I should really be going anyway," he says, reaching across the goban to poke at the furrow in Shindou's forehead.

"Wait, no, you can't go yet," Shindou says quickly, bating Kiyoharu's hand away. "We should go get something to eat."

Taking a moment, Kiyoharu considers this. It won't do any harm to spend a little while longer with Shindou, and it'll save him a trip to the convenience store to pick up something to eat while he studies. "Okay, why not," he says.

"Awesome!" Shindou replies, standing and scattering candy and the rest of the foil and paper wrappers across the table and floor. "I just have to call my mom to let her know I won't be home for a while." He looks around at the mess he's made, and it seems to register for the first time. "Oh wait, I should probably clean this up first," he says reluctantly.

"Don't worry about it, Shindou-kun," the owner of Dougenzaka says with a laugh. "I'll take care of it."

"You're going to spoil him," his wife calls out from the front counter. Shindou ignores her, grinning at the owner.

"Thanks master!" he exclaims as he fishes his cell phone out of his pocket. Kiyoharu has seen it about a hundred times, but it never fails to amaze him how obnoxiously yellow it is. While Shindou is busy getting out of the owner's way while trying to dial a phone at the same time, Kiyoharu stands, bending over to pick up his messenger bag and sling it across his body. He follows Shindou to the exit, murmuring a polite 'thanks' to the owner's wife when Shindou doesn't say anything to her on his way out. She favors him with a rare smile, though it's pretty tiny.

"Hey mom? Just calling to tell you I'm not going to be home until later," Shindou says as they walk up the street. Kiyoharu has no idea where they're going, so he just follows Shindou and hopes for the best. Shindou is an expert at getting lost under the most ideal circumstances; getting lost while distracted on the phone is almost a matter of course. "No I won't need dinner, I'm going out with Yashiro. No we were just gonna hit up a restaurant around the salon. Yes I'm sure. Yes he's been eating. I just know, okay?"

Kiyoharu raises an eyebrow at the direction the half of the conversation he can hear has taken, but refrains from saying anything just yet.

"Yeah, I'll invite him over next time, don't worry. Yeah. Bye." Shindou shuts his phone and stuffs it into his pocket, rolling his eyes after catching Kiyoharu's gaze as if to say 'parents, huh?'

"Either your mom likes me, or she thinks I'm a bad influence on you and wants to keep an eye on me," Kiyoharu jokes, feeling a little weird about how concerned Shindou's mother seems about his eating habits. Even his own mother has started trusting him not to starve or subsist on crappy convenience store food day in and day out.

"No, she definitely likes you," Shindou says, shrugging one shoulder. "I think she likes you more than she likes me."

This surprises Kiyoharu, but he tries not to show it. "Sure," he says with an embarrassed laugh, "she just doesn't know me very well."

"Whatever dude," Shindou says dismissively. "You're pretty likeable."

Something about the way Shindou says that makes Kiyoharu's stomach do a little flip. "Oh yeah?" he asks nonchalantly.

"Duh. I'm friends with you after all, aren't I?" Shindou flashes a cheeky grin at him, and Kiyoharu feels the familiar fond annoyance creep up on him, smothering whatever it was he had just been feeling.

"Well when you say it that way how can I deny it," he deadpans, causing Shindou to laugh. 

By the time Shindou’s laugh subsides into an echoing smile, they’ve stopped in front of the entrance to a family restaurant Kiyoharu had never known was there. He stares up at the sign, before glancing over at Shindou when he announces, “We’re here.”

“Oh, and we didn’t even get lost,” Kiyoharu says jokingly. Shindou punches his arm and shoves on the door, ignoring the hostess who greets them as Kiyoharu follows him. They’re seated in a booth by the window, and Kiyoharu slides into the bench seat on the left, dropping his messenger bag next to him. A cute waitress comes to hand them menus and drop off glasses of water, and Kiyoharu nods at her as she moves on to service the other tables with people at them.

“I was expecting ramen,” he says offhandedly as he peruses the selections.

“I thought we’d do something different today,” Shindou replies. Kiyoharu lays his menu down on the table so he can give Shindou a disbelieving stare.

“This from the guy who claims to be able to eat nothing but ramen for weeks on end?” he asks.

“I totally could!” Shindou insists. “But I thought since you’re with me we could do something else. I’m not completely heartless.”

“My stomach and blood pressure thank you,” Kiyoharu says, picking his menu back up just as their waiter comes and introduces himself, ready to take their orders.

When they’ve ordered their food and are alone again -- or as alone as they can be in the middle of a restaurant -- Kiyoharu takes the opportunity to pull out his textbook for his International Relations class. As much as he's not really planning on doing anything related to political science, he actually enjoys the classes. He's got a test to study for, and it seems like the perfect bit of downtime to sneak in some revision. The textbook barely has time to hit the table before Shindou speaks up.

"What the heck?" he asks. Kiyoharu glances up at him as he flips to the page he has marked with a sticky tab. "You can't do that here."

"And why not?" Kiyoharu asks, turning his attention to the book. "There isn't a sign anywhere saying 'no studying for exams allowed,' is there?"

"You are a huge dork," Shindou says, ignoring the sarcasm. Kiyoharu puts an elbow on the table and rests his chin on his hand casually.

"Well when do you suggest I study, since you're taking all my free time today?" he asks.

"Whatever," Shindou scoffs, making Kiyoharu scowl. "You're some sort of genius or something. You don't need to study."

"As much as your faith in me warms me, I actually do have to study if I don't want to fail," Kiyoharu insists with a roll of his eyes. Shindou ignores him and reaches across the table to snatch the textbook before he can get a good grip on it. "Hey!" he protests.

"I'll give it back later," Shindou says, standing just long enough to drop the book beneath him and sit back down on it. Kiyoharu heaves a heavy sigh; the futility of resisting is readily apparent.

"Why do I hang out with you?" he asks under his breath, just loud enough for Shindou to catch the words.

"Because I'm awesome, duh," he says without missing a beat.

"Yeah that's one word for it," Kiyoharu mutters.

"So I totally have to tell you this," Shindou says without context, making Kiyoharu wonder how he holds normal conversations with anyone. "You're here after all, and I have to tell someone."

"When you put it that way, please excuse me if I'm not flattered at your candor," Kiyoharu says dryly.

"Shut up," Shindou shoots back at him. Kiyoharu cracks a smile and makes a motion with one hand for him to continue. "So I'm moving out of my parents' house."

A beat passes, and when nothing else is forthcoming Kiyoharu raises his eyebrows. "Oh. Is that all?" He feels Shindou's shoe connect with his ankle, but not hard enough to hurt.

"Come on, be excited for me. I'm excited!" he says with a pouty frown.

"Well I'm sorry. I left my pompoms at home with the rest of my unfinished homework," he half-jokes.

They're interrupted by the waiter bringing their food, and the conversation lulls as they both fill their mouths. The food is good, and Kiyoharu hasn't eaten out like this in a few weeks, so it's a nice treat to not have to figure out how to manage to cook for one without a ton of leftovers for once. It's definitely better than convenience store food.

"So," Shindou says a few minutes later as he's pushing his food around his plate, "you totally have to help me out with picking a place. Since you know what you're doing and all."

Kiyoharu scoffs, swallows, and takes a sip of water before answering. "Are you kiddin' me? I went to a real estate agent. They did all the work, all I did was pick the place I liked the best."

"But you've done it before!" Shindou insists.

Kiyoharu points his fork at him. "Dude, I don't have the time to go apartment hunting with you."

"Oh no you won't have to I'll have that covered I think. I just want you to give me some hints about what I should look for, or something. I don't know, I've never done this before." Shindou gives him a pleading look, and the hand holding Kiyoharu's fork droops down.

"That's what real estate agents are for, Shindou," he says wearily. "They will hold your hand if you need it. You expect to survive on your own with that attitude?"

Shindou sticks his tongue out at Kiyoharu. "Stop being a raincloud on my parade of life," he says.

"You are a complete dork," Kiyoharu states. Shindou doesn't deny it.

They finish their meals in companionable silence, and when the waiter comes to bus their table and drop off the check Kiyoharu reaches for his wallet to pull out some cash to pay for his half. Shindou stops him with a word.

"Hey," he says, and Kiyoharu pauses to look at him curiously. "I got this."

Cocking his head to the side, Kiyoharu tries not to look completely puzzled. "What? Why? You never pay for me when we go out."

"It's a birthday present, duh," Shindou answers, as if it should have been obvious. Kiyoharu stares at him unblinking. His birthday isn't something he can remember telling anyone, but it's also not a secret either. It's just something he never expected Shindou to know off the top of his head.

"You know when my birthday is," he says, his flat tone turning the question into a statement.

"It's in two days," Shindou answers, wrinkling his nose as his eyebrows draw together. It makes him look younger than his nineteen years. "What kind of friend do you take me for? Geez."

"Whatever," Kiyoharu says, trying to hide the embarrassment he suddenly feels. "Go pay already." Shindou stands, hands him his textbook -- it's warm from Shindou sitting on it, and it occurs belatedly to Kiyoharu that he missed a great opportunity to make a joke about Shindou needing a booster seat. He watches Shindou shuffle to the cashier, and while he's handing money over Kiyoharu puts his book back into his bag.

Being friends with Shindou can be frustrating, invigorating, surreal, or fun. Sometimes everything at once. But even if he's a little self-centered and dense, Kiyoharu is glad they're friends. He knows Shindou is a complete Go-freak, and his knowledge and interest in anything else is pretty hit-or-miss, but that's okay. They're pros after all, they'll always have that common ground. He has to admit that even though Shindou's naming sense and choice of flavors were both pretty terrible, candy Go was pretty fun. And he's pretty happy that Shindou is his friend.


	2. Chapter 2

Kiyoharu doesn’t know how he let himself get roped into helping Shindou move all his crap from his parents’ house to his new place. Every excuse he had tried to come up with -- including the fact that he has tons of homework due next week, which is true no matter what Shindou thinks -- had been blown off in a series of pleas and cajoling.

He hates himself a little for how easily he gave in. Now it’s the middle of August, and he’s stuck spending his Sunday lugging boxes of Shindou’s things up three flights of stairs on the hottest day of the year. He’s sweating from places he didn’t even realize could sweat, and has been cursing Shindou’s name since the temperature climbed above 30 degrees. According to the weather report on the radio they have set in the corner of the room it’s a record high.

“Shindou, I freakin’ hate you,” he mutters as he drags the last box up to the third floor landing, his arm muscles feeling like they’re made of gelatin and sweat soaking the tank top he’d had the foresight to wear instead of a t-shirt.

“What was that?” the person in question asks, popping his head out of the open door of the apartment. Kiyoharu sees Shindou using a towel to wipe the sweat from his own face, and spends a moment desperately wishing for a cool shower.

“Nothing,” he answers, too tired to argue. “Your dad wants to see you before he takes the truck back.” Kiyoharu drops the final box just inside the door, wincing at the reverberating thud and hoping Shindou’s downstairs neighbors are out for the afternoon.

“Okay thanks,” Shindou says, jogging down the stairs. Kiyoharu spares a moment to wonder how he can have so much energy when it’s all he can do to stay upright after the grueling afternoon they’ve just endured. He can hear Shindou’s voice, as well as his father’s, but can’t make out any words; he retreats further into the apartment to give them some privacy, and to collapse on the floor among the stacks of boxes.

The apartment doesn’t have air conditioning, but a single box fan in the window helps air to circulate so the apartment isn’t nearly as stiflingly hot as it could be. It’s still pretty bad, though, especially with their body heat steaming the place up. Kiyoharu fans himself with his hand, but it does little good. He drops his arm to his side and shuts his eyes, listening to the pounding in his head and wondering if Shindou would even have the decency to get him medical attention if he decided to die of heat exhaustion right now.

“Hey Yashiro, you alive?” Shindou calls out, as if he can read Kiyoharu’s thoughts. The notion is a little disconcerting, but he brushes it off as Shindou poking fun at his moaning about dying the entire afternoon. With a groan, Kiyoharu lifts his tired arm and waves lazily, his hand flopping around for a few listless seconds before he lets it fall back to the hardwood.

He can hear Shindou picking his way through the haphazard path they’d created until he was looming over him. Kiyoharu opens his eyes to find Shindou offering him a can. Sitting up, Yashiro takes it, the cold exterior a pleasant contrast to the heat of his hand.

“I got us sodas, there’s a vending machine a little bit from here,” Shindou explains, sitting next to Kiyoharu and stretching his legs out with a tired sigh.

“Convenient,” Kiyoharu remarks, before pulling the tab on his soda and bringing it to his lips. It’s lemon-lime with too much sugar, not Kiyoharu’s favorite, but he’s so thirsty he’ll drink almost anything at this point. Tilting his head back, he drains the can in a few large gulps. He makes a satisfied noise, rubbing at his forehead with the back of his hand as he crushes the can, glancing at Shindou.

Shindou still hasn’t opened his own soda, having decided to instead use it to cool the back of his neck. Kiyoharu belatedly wishes he’d thought to do that first, but figures it wouldn’t make much of a difference considering as soon as he moved it his neck would just heat up again.

“You so owe me,” he says to fill the silence between them, and Shindou looks at him, startled, before breaking out in a grin and nodding.

“Yeah, I totally do,” he agrees, cracking open his own soda. The difference in the temperature between the outside and inside of the can has caused condensation to bead in the places Shindou’s fingers aren’t touching, and as he tilts his head back to start drinking, Kiyoharu watches a droplet slip down the can and drop onto Shindou’s throat, tracing the contour of his adam’s apple before disappearing beneath the collar of his t-shirt.

Time seems to crawl to a stop as Kiyoharu stares at the column of Shindou’s throat, and a voice in the back of his head is asking what the hell he thinks he’s doing. He ignores the voice, instead dragging his gaze up to Shindou’s mouth. It’s obscured by the can held to his lips, but suddenly comes into view when Shindou lowers it to grin at him. The moment is shattered; Kiyoharu shakes his head to clear it, wondering if the heat affected him more than he realized.

“So what now?” Shindou asks as Kiyoharu rubs at his eyes, willing his heart to slow from the hammering pace it’s setting as if he had just jogged up the stairs with a box full of Shindou’s brick collection.

“What do you mean?” Kiyoharu asks, proud of how steady his voice sounds. He spends a few seconds telling himself that it was nothing, that he was just tired and Shindou just has a nice-looking neck. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t.

“I mean what now? What do we do next?” Shindou asks, flinging an arm out to his side to gesture to his cardboard labyrinth. Kiyoharu follows the gesture, looking at the boxes and containers they’d hauled up three long flights of stairs as Shindou’s dad had unloaded them from the moving truck, feeling supremely exhausted all of a sudden.

“I’ll tell you what you do next. You unpack and make this place look less like a shanty town. But if you think I’m sticking around for that, you’re insane.” He brings a hand up to his neck to rub at the hair that’s sticking to the sweat beaded on the nape, tossing his empty can toward the plastic garbage bag sitting open in the kitchen area. He misses, but it doesn’t concern him. Shindou’s the one that has to clean up, after all. He’s pointedly not looking at his friend as he finishes his own drink. “I will stick around for a game though,” he offers.

Shindou belches softly next to him, and Kiyoharu wonders how he ever found him attractive for even a second. “Okay that’d be awesome! Lemme find my goban.” Shindou stands and starts opening boxes, and Kiyoharu can’t help but smile at the sudden motivation.

“Wait, I’ll stay and play, but only if you’re buying dinner,” he says, his grin turning to a smirk. Shindou looks over his shoulder at him, and shrugs.

“Sure whatever, but we’re not playing speed Go. It has to be a proper game.”

Kiyoharu lets himself laugh softly. The two of them are surrounded by a mountain of work to get finished, the sun is setting, and all Shindou cares about is their game. He could be given a day-old convenience store bento at this point, and it would still be a moment he remembers for the rest of his life.

“Sounds like fun.”

***

_”Hey Yashiro.”_

_“Oh, hey Nobito. What’s up?”_

_“You busy this Sunday night? Takagi and Hatada and I were planning on going out. We know you’ve been busy with your Go stuff and classes but thought you might want to come along.”_

_“Yeah I think I can come, what are we doing?”_

_“Nothing big. Drinking probably, or karaoke.”_

_“Just promise me no karaoke and I’ll definitely come.”_

_“Haha yeah, nobody wants to hear your dying cat voice that’s for sure.”_

_“Jerk.”_

_“Tell me it isn’t true.”_

_“You guys wouldn’t mind if I brought someone would you?”_

_“This is a guy’s night out, no girlfriends allowed.”_

_“Not a girlfriend. One of my Go friends.”_

_“Sure go ahead and bring him if you think he’ll be fun.”_

_“Okay just text me with the time and place then.”_

They ended up in a crowded, noisy bar taking up more tables than they should strictly have the right to, but nobody’s called them on it. Kiyoharu is on the far right, nursing his second beer since he has classes tomorrow morning and can’t afford the hangover. Hatada is next to him, elbows on the table as he soaks in the atmosphere and the chatter around him. Shindou is listening to Takagi and Nobito telling stories about their high school exploits together, and Kiyoharu can hear him interjecting laughter into the the anecdotes.

He’s heard them all before, since their first year when he made friends with them and they used to spend hours on the weekends together. It was ostensibly a study group, but they inevitably ended up turning on the television to watch sumo matches Takagi had recorded, since he’s a huge sumo nerd. Kiyoharu was never really that into sumo, but after a few study sessions he found himself getting into it just as much as the other three, yelling and cheering with the rest of them. He liked lull between the action the best, though, since they usually ended up having the most random conversations.

They’re just up Shindou’s alley, friend-wise. A little eccentric and lots of fun to hang around. But something about the way he’s so easily integrated into his group of friends, the way he can command their attention when he tells anecdotes of his own sets his teeth on edge. It’s an ugly feeling but he can’t seem to get rid of it. He’s glad he was able to bring Shindou out for his first adult drinking party since turning twenty a couple of weeks ago, but he’s beginning to regret introducing him to his friends. This should have been just the two of them.

“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine tonight,” Hatada says in a voice just low enough for Kiyoharu to catch it. He sighs, bringing a hand to his head. He knows he’s being a drag on the atmosphere and the fun, but he can’t seem to help it. He’s glad Shindou is having a good time in his first ‘adult’ outing as someone legally allowed to drink in a bar, but seeing him with his friends, seeing him integrate so easily with people he hardly knows, it makes him irrationally jealous. Shindou was his friend first, but he’s the one sitting isolated from the rest of the group. He knows it’s his own fault, that all he has to do is engage the rest of them in conversation the way Shindou has, but as he drains the rest of his beer he can’t seem to muster the energy.

“I’m just not feeling well,” he murmurs, and it’s not wholly untrue. He has a headache, and it feels like a stone has settled in his stomach. He hates himself for the petty jealousy he’s experiencing over something so trivial. “I think I’m gonna take off.”

“Okay man,” Hatada says, lightly punching his shoulder. Kiyoharu musters a half smile as he stands, tossing a few bills on the table to cover his part of the tab. He’s about to ask Hatada to say goodnight to Shindou for him, when the person in question bounds over to him, a crooked smile on his face.

“Oh hey Yashiro, you goin’ home?” Shindou asks. Kiyoharu nods.

“Yeah, not feelin’ that great,” he says by way of explanation.

“Okay, lemme grab my phone and I’ll come with you,” Shindou says, and before Kiyoharu can tell him he should stay and have fun, Shindou has grabbed his cell and said his goodbyes. “It was nice seeing you guys,” he says as he rejoins Yashiro. “We should totally do it again!”

Nobito raises his hand, which still has a bottle of beer clutched tightly in it. “Definitely!” he exclaims, and Kiyoharu only just restrains the urge to roll his eyes. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Shindou grin.

“Later guys,” Kiyoharu says as he shoves his wallet into his pocket and heads toward the door. A chorus of goodbyes follow him out. The cool night air feels good against his overheated skin, and he takes a deep breath as he waits for Shindou to join him outside. The fact that Shindou wants to leave with him has made the jealous knot in his stomach loosen a bit, but something else has taken its place, something he doesn’t want to think too hard about.

It only takes Shindou a few seconds to join Kiyoharu in the bustle of nighttime Tokyo, and he pokes him in the small of his back with one finger as he approaches from behind. Kiyoharu isn’t expecting it, and he twists away belatedly to avoid being poked again.

“Hey, you don’t look so good,” Shindou observes. “You’re all red. You have a fever?” Kiyoharu can scarcely blink, let alone think of a snarky comeback, before Shindou is reaching up to put his palm on his forehead, and the suddenness of it makes him jerk backwards reflexively, eyes wide. Shindou doesn’t seem to take offense, just shrugs and hits Kiyoharu’s arm. “Hold still. It’s bad enough that you;’re a giant without you moving around and making it harder.”

Kiyoharu mutters a quick, “Sorry,” as he carefully holds himself still to allow Shindou to check his temperature. The contrasting smooth coolness of his hand serves to heighten the awareness of how red his face must be, but as Shindou compares his temperature to his own and shakes his head, Kiyoharu lets himself hope that his blush isn’t as bad as he’d thought.

“Nope, no fever,” he announces needlessly. Kiyoharu brushes Shindou’s hand away from his forehead and starts heading in the direction of the train station, dodging a couple that give him a dirty look when he brushes by them.

“Like I’m gonna trust the opinion of a drunk dude,” he says with a dismissive wave, not looking to see if Shindou is following.

“Hey I’m not drunk!” Shindou insists, his voice too loud. It draws the stares of the people around him, and Kiyoharu wants to point out how the evidence contradicts his statement. Unfortunately, Shindou is always this boisterous, even when sober.

“Uh huh,” he says instead, going for sarcasm. He knows Shindou is probably tipsy at most, but the bickering helps keep things normal between them. Then he can pretend that his friend’s hand on his face didn’t just set his blood tingling. Shindou doesn’t answer him, and they weave their way through other late-night revelers the conversation lapses into a mostly-comfortable silence.

Later, in the darkness of Kiyoharu’s room, he allows himself to think of the way his leg bumped against Shindou’s with every wobble the train made. They had been sitting so close together, and the train car had been completely empty. Shindou could have picked the seat across the car from him, but he had seated himself right next to Kiyoharu.

Kicking his comforter off the bed, Kiyoharu lets his leg dangle off the edge as he draws his other knee up and stares into the darkness toward the ceiling. He laces his fingers together behind his head, and shuts his eyes. It would have been so easy to brush his knee purposefully against Shindou’s, and he wouldn’t have even realized. He would have just taken it for the normal movements of riding a train. He wouldn’t have stopped him. Not when it was so innocent.

Since there was nobody to watch them, Kiyoharu might have allowed himself to be bold. Maybe he'd hook his leg behind Shindou's, so that they were touching without the benefit of the train helping them. And maybe Shindou wouldn't say anything, wouldn't tell him to stop it or ask what he was doing. Maybe he'd let him. And that implicit permission would give Kiyoharu the nerve to set his hand on Shindou's thigh. He would stroke it with his fingertips in long caresses, from Shindou's knee along the inside of his thigh up as far as he dares.

Shindou would look down at Kiyoharu's hand, watching it, then he would look into his eyes. He wouldn't say no. He wouldn't tell him to stop.

Perhaps his eyes would lid, hiding the vivid green of his irises with his lashes. His tongue would dart out just long enough to dampen his lips. Kiyoharu would take it as all the invitation he needed; he would lean over, his hand firmly on Shindou's thigh, and kiss him.

It would be soft at first, and Kiyoharu would keep his eyes open just long enough to watch Shindou's flutter shut. After a few more seconds, he would run his tongue along Shindou's lower lip, before drawing it between his lips to suck gently on it. It wouldn't be long before Shindou would part his lips, and Kiyoharu would let his lip go to dip his tongue inside Shindou's mouth in a deeper kiss. Shindou would grab at Kiyoharu's shirt, pulling him closer. It would wrinkle his shirt, and while that would usually annoy him, for once Kiyoharu wouldn't give a damn.

In the darkness, Kiyoharu's hand traces patterns on his abdomen, spirals and zig zags that raise goosebumps on his skin. He won't let himself do more than that, he can't; he's thinking about his best friend, and that's against some unspoken code of conduct. But he can't help but let his fingers slip lower, just under the waistband of his pajama pants past where his underwear would start if he were wearing any. Kiyoharu's fingers twist in his pubic hair, the coarseness against the pads of his fingertips a contrast to the smoothness of his abdomen. Even that much is almost too much; he can feel the heat from his hand in his dick, wants to take himself in his hand and stroke himself to completion.

"Oh god," Kiyoharu murmurs through clenched teeth, forcing himself to move his hand, to rest it on his stomach as it heaves with the effort of not touching himself. He's so achingly hard and each time Shindou's tongue meets his as they kiss passionately in his fantasy only makes it throb more, until it's an echo of his heartbeat.

On the train, just the two of them together, Kiyoharu would throw all caution to the wind; breaking the kiss just long enough to stand and face Shindou he would sit on his lap, straddling him. His height would give him an advantage; Shindou would have to tilt his head back to look at Kiyoharu, and the angle would be perfect to kiss him again. Shindou would unhesitatingly part his lips, their tongues and breaths would mingle and Kiyoharu would slip his arms around Shindou so he could carefully grab two fistfuls of unbleached hair. It would be impossibly soft in his hands, and only the kiss would distract him from rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger.

When the two of them need air, they'd break the kiss, though he wouldn't want to. He could die happily kissing Shindou, and not have any regrets. Then Shindou would grin at him, and he loves that smile; the one that he wears when he's about to play a move that's about to disrupt Kiyoharu's plans on the goban. It's guileless, and full of teeth and joy and something that makes Kiyoharu's insides twist into a ball of confusion every time he sees it. He would grin that grin, and before Kiyoharu could say anything Shindou would have a hand between their bodies, pressing it against his hard cock through his jeans.

Releasing a jagged breath, Kiyoharu loses hold of his willpower, and as he slips his hand inside his pajama pants once again, wrapping his fist tightly around his cock and jerking it. He arches just enough to lift his ass from the mattress, his muscles quivering with the strain of restraint. Each jerk of his hand meets a thrust of his hips as he fucks his fist in time with the movements of fantasy-Shindou working at his dick with the heel of his hand.

His voice threatens to rise beyond the soft groans he had been allowing himself, so Kiyoharu brings his free hand to his mouth, biting down on the fleshy part beneath his thumb to muffle his moans. It wouldn't do to wake his neighbor, since her bedroom is on the other side of his thin wall. The slap of skin on skin as he frantically jacks himself is the loudest thing in the room, precome lubricating his hand as it leaks from his cockhead.

Shindou would kiss Kiyoharu's neck, licking and sucking at his adam's apple as he keeps kneading his cock. He would be writhing on Shindou's lap, needing every touch he's offered and so much more, but so close to completion that the edges of his vision are already going fuzzy.

It's an embarrassingly short time before he's finally sobbing against his hand, his cock spurting hot, thick come down his fingers to drip onto his abdomen at the same time as his fantasy self climaxes under Shindou's touch. Kiyoharu doesn't stop stroking until he's milked himself dry, his breaths coming fast with the exertion of orgasm. He collapses against his bed, each breath a typhoon to his ears in the silence of midnight. Seconds pass by, one after another, and as Kiyoharu's heart slows to normal, a heavy stone of regret settles in his stomach, replacing the desire. Shindou is his best friend, and he just jerked off to thoughts of him. Sure he's attractive, and charismatic, and really easy to like, but he's also off-limits.

Besides, Kiyoharu isn’t ready for any sort of relationship, not since the debacle with Inoue-senpai. They started out as friends too, before the night that changed everything. He doesn’t want the same thing to happen with Shindou. He doesn’t know if his heart can take rejection from someone he holds in such high esteem.

Rolling over onto his side, facing the wall in the darkness, Kiyoharu is forced to face the truth with that one thought. He doesn’t have to like it, but he’s pretty much in love with Shindou. It snuck up on him, but there’s no turning back. So now he has two choices: figure out how to deal with his feelings, or feel guilty over them.

Since guilt only serves to make him feel ill, Kiyoharu resolves to try and act like everything is normal. Maybe by going through the motions his feelings will resolve themselves; they might cool, or he’ll simply become used to them and be able to carry on as before. It’s less conspicuous than avoiding him, and that way Shindou never need know.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. I wrote this fic almost exactly a year ago and am finally getting around to finishing posting it. Took me long enough!

Unfortunately, regardless of his resolution to try and act normally, the next week is full of exams at school, so between games at the Ki’in and studying for the tests, Kiyoharu is left avoiding Shindou anyway. He tells himself that he’s not trying to, that it’s just an inconvenient cosmic coincidence, but if he were being honest with himself he would admit to being somewhat relieved that he doesn’t have to see Shindou, at least for a little while. It gives him the willpower needed to turn down Shindou’s repeated invitations to play Go at the Dougenzaka salon, or to go over to his place for a video game marathon.

By the end of the week, he’s lost count of the number of times Shindou has called him, and the number of messages he’s left and texts he’s sent begging Kiyoharu to come over and play with him. After the first six, Kiyoharu stopped listening to them since they all said the same thing: _”Yashiro get over here, it’s boring without you,”_ and _”Yashiro come on, we haven’t played a game in forever! And shut up a week and a half is so forever.”_

When his voicemail’s inbox is clear and he’s deleted about fifty texts from Shindou, he doesn’t have to wait long before his phone is alerting him to a new incoming call. Kiyoharu had known he wouldn’t have to return any of Shindou’s calls, since the man himself would keep calling until he gets a response. He considers letting it go to voicemail again just to aggravate Shindou, but answers it at the last moment just to get the inevitable conversation over with.

“Oh my god where have you been?” Shindou asks the moment Kiyoharu greets him. “I saw you at the Ki’in for your game, but then you disappeared before I could catch up with you. And you haven’t been taking my calls! I thought you died and became a Go-playing ghost or something!”

Kiyoharu takes a moment to wonder where on earth Shindou comes up with these scenarios, scoffing softly before answering. “Wow, that’s a little far-fetched, even for you.”

“Shut up it could totally happen, you don’t even know.”

“Well I’m neither dead nor a Go-playing ghost,” Kiyoharu reassures him. “I was just busy this week with school.”

“You’re done now, though. Right? You should come over since you haven’t been over in ages--”

“It’s been less than two weeks, Shindou.”

“--and I have a new video game I’ve been saving to play with you,” Shindou continues as if Kiyoharu hadn’t said anything at all.

Groaning, Kiyoharu covers his eyes with one hand. “I was actually planning on sleeping this afternoon,” he says. “I’ve slept like two hours this week.”

“You’re a liar,” Shindou accuses, “you love sleep more than you love food and I’ve seen how you eat.”

“Okay whatever; it feels like I’ve had two hours of sleep. I’m tired,” Kiyoharu snaps.

“You can sleep tonight. Just get over here okay? I have this box of really good chocolate. You can have some if you want. You like chocolate right?”

Kiyoharu sighs. “IF it will shut you up, then I’ll come over for a few hours,” he capitulates. “But don’t blame me if I’m grouchy.”

He can practically hear Shindou punching the air over the phone. “Yes! Awesome! I’ll get everything set up, so you’d better be over here soon!” Shindou’s exuberance is infectious, and Kiyoharu smiles in spite of himself.

“You know,” he says in an amused voice, “when you left messages saying you wanted to play with me, I thought you were talking about Go. Since that’s all you think about an’ all.”

“Yeah, well I’ll totally figure out how to make you stay for a game when we’re done with the video game,” Shindou promises. Kiyoharu has no doubts he’ll make good on that promise, so he stand to grab his wallet and keys. The sooner he gets to Shindou’s place, the sooner he can get home for some sleep. Despite it all, he’s looking forward to a little unwinding with Shindou.

“That’s not happening,” he vows, knowing Shindou won’t even hear the words. He hears what he wants to hear for better or worse.

A half an hour later, he’s in Shindou’s living room and they’re playing some fighting game Shindou had thought sounded cool. Kiyoharu thinks the graphics are a little dated, but it’s still pretty fun. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Shindou eating pieces of the promised chocolate from the box that sits between the two of them but he prefers to concentrate on the game rather than multitask. There will be time enough later to have some of it, and that way he can focus on kicking Shindou’s ass.

Three rounds later, when Shindou is crowing triumphantly, Kiyoharu tosses his controller onto the coffee table in front of him in disgust. “That was cheap,” he complains.

“Whatever, loser,” Shindou says with a grin, grabbing for another chocolate.

“Dude don’t you think you’ve had enough of those?” he asks, reaching for the box himself.

“Nah. If I don’t eat them then they’ll just go bad or something, right?” Shindou shrugs, setting his own controller down next to the other one. Kiyoharu’s hand gropes for a chocolate, but when he comes back without one he glances down at the box, finding nothing by bits of shavings left in the bottom. Picks it up, holding it in front of him for Shindou to see with a frown.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” he asks, a touch of incredulity coloring his tone.

“Hey they were really good,” Shindou replies airily. He frowns deeper.

"You're a huge ass Shindou," Kiyoharu grumbles, staring at the empty box that had been filled with chocolate just an hour before. "I wanted some of it."

"You snooze, you lose," Shindou says with a smarmy grin, and Yashiro wants to punch him in his stupid smug nose. "Tell you what," he continues, and Kiyoharu raises an eyebrow as Shindou sticks his tongue out to show him the partially-melted chocolate sitting on it.

"What?" Kiyoharu asks, sounding a little faint to his own ears.

"You want some? Come an' get it," Shindou challenges, and Kiyoharu feels the bottom drop from beneath his stomach. He knows he’s joking, he has to be. As far as he can figure, Shindou is completely oblivious to every gesture and action that even alludes to a knowledge of sex. Hell, he’s probably a virgin, Kiyoharu would bet money on it. He takes a shaky breath, and forces a laugh.

"You kiddin' me?" he asks, reaching over to punch Shindou's shoulder. Shindou shoves himself back against Yashiro's fist, grinning as he holds the piece of chocolate between his teeth. Taunting him.

"What, you scared?" Shindou goads, and Kiyoharu tries to force his eyes away from a smear of chocolate on Shindou's lip, settling for shoving him against the arm of the couch.

"Scared of what, catching your germs? As if." Kiyoharu rolls his eyes, wishing Shindou would just drop it. But of course he isn't that lucky. He never is.

"You're totally scared. Come on, it's half gone, you want me to finish it?" Shindou pokes at Kiyoharu's arm, and he idly wonders if Shindou even knows what he’s asking. Well, if he doesn't, it would serve him right. He sighs heavily, clenching his fists before relaxing himself and before he can talk himself out of it, he leans over to press his lips against Shindou's. His tongue breaks the seal of Shindou's lips, curling in to lick at the chocolate candy melting on the flat of Shindou's tongue. Shindou has gone still, and as Kiyoharu draws back, he has the chocolate between his teeth. He eats it, not tasting it as he stares at Shindou, who is staring back at him as if he doesn't know what to do.

Neither of them speak, the fragile tension of the moment making silence the best course of action, and as Kiyoharu searches Shindou's startled green eyes, his own are drawn downward once more, toward the chocolate still smeared on Shindou's lip. Slowly, as if Shindou is about to bolt, Kiyoharu leans in, invading his space again but giving Shindou a chance to stop him. When he doesn't, Kiyoharu licks at the chocolate smeared on his lower lip, the sweetness bursting against his tongue much brighter than the piece of candy had just a minute before. He hears Shindou inhale sharply, parting his lips to lick at the dampness he'd left behind. The sight of Shindou's tongue twists Kiyoharu's insides pleasantly, and he can’t help himself from closing the distance between the two of them, meeting Shindou's lips with his own in a real kiss.

When Shindou's tongue tentatively brushes against Kiyoharu's, he groans and slips an arm around Shindou's waist, pulling him closer. His heart is hammering, and with Shindou's hand resting against his chest there's no way he can't feel it. Kiyoharu doesn't care. The remnants of the chocolate they shared flavor the kiss, lingering on his tongue even as he pulls back to change the angle. He carefully places a hand on Shindou's thigh, stroking it lightly as he changes the kiss' angle once more, trying to find the best one. Their noses bump together, and he pulls back to check Shindou's reaction, seeing only a half-lidded want reflected back at him.

Kiyoharu kisses Shindou again, sucking his lower lip into his mouth to worry gently at it between his teeth, and his hand continues to stroke Shindou’s leg. With each caress he lets himself move a higher on his thigh, but apparently it isn’t fast enough for Shindou. Without breaking the kiss, he moves his hand from Kiyoharu’s chest to grab his wrist, pulling it insistently to cup between his legs. Kiyoharu presses against him, and almost moans when he feels Shindou is just as hard as he is. He pulls back from the kiss to take a gasping breath, his entire body overheated with need. He lays clumsy kisses over Shindou’s jaw as he strokes Shindou’s cock through his cargo pants, tracing the outline with his fingers.

As Shindou moves his hips to thrust into Kiyoharu’s hand, he maneuvers them so he can push Shindou back against the couch’s armrest. Shindou swings his legs up without prompting to lay lengthwise on the couch, spreading his legs for Kiyoharu to rest between them as his hands fumble with Kiyoharu’s shirt. It’s clear he’s not coordinated enough at the moment to manage to get anyone’s shirt off, so with his last vestiges of self-control Kiyoharu pushes away to kneel over Shindou, removing his shirt and leaving him bare chested. After a moment’s hesitation, he pushes at the shoulders of Shindou’s open button-up shirt. Shindou raises himself up just enough for Kiyoharu to maneuver it off of him, tugging quickly at the t-shirt underneath and dropping both on the floor with his own shirt.

Kiyoharu doesn’t settle against Shindou immediately; he keeps kneading and stroking his dick through his pants as he nips at Shindou’s lips. He sees Shindou’s eyes darken with lust, and he lays a tentative hand on Kiyoharu’s chest. The feel of Shindou’s cooler hand against his chest makes him shiver in pleasure, and he presses a biting kiss against Shindou’s throat as he finally moves his hand and lets himself cover Shindou’s body with his own. They both make sounds of pleasure, Shindou’s breath brushing against Kiyoharu’s cheek as he presses himself against Shindou. His cock is so hard he can count the beats of his heart throbbing in it, and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he doesn’t get some relief soon. He braces himself with one hand against the armrest, and Shindou loops his arms around Kiyoharu’s neck; all he can think is ‘We’re doing this, this is a thing that is happening,’ before coherence is stolen from him in the form of Shindou matching his movements with thrusts of his own.

He’s moving against Shindou, holding his hip steady so he can grind against him over and over again. Kiyoharu’s thumb is hooked in the waistband of his pants, and the layers between them are almost too much but it’s too late to stop, too late for anything other than to keep going. Shindou’s blunt nails scrape down Kiyoharu’s back, leaving stinging trails until they reach his ass. Shindou cups Kiyoharu’s ass, squeezing firmly and holding him down as he ruts upwards, panting and groaning. Kiyoharu realizes he’s coming a second before he does, and the knowledge is almost enough to send him over the edge. He grinds against him several more times, breathing heavily against Shindou’s cheek before his whole body stiffens.

Coming in his pants had definitely not been in the agenda when he told Shindou he’d come over that day, and as his lips close around Shindou’s earlobe to nip at it as he comes down off his orgasm high, he keeps his face buried in Shindou’s neck as long as he thinks he can get away with. He’s been in a dreamlike state for the duration of this-- whatever this is, and he’s not ready to leave it yet. But when Shindou squirms beneath him, he knows he has to.

Kiyoharu pants, still resting against Shindou’s form. His come is sticky, coating the inside of his underwear uncomfortably, and for all the pleasure it represents had just happened, all it means now is he has to deal with the consequences of his hasty actions. Shindou is staring at him unblinking, and Kiyoharu fights to keep eye contact. He doesn’t know what Shindou thinks of what just happened, and he’s almost afraid to find out.

“Can I use your shower?” he asks before Shindou can say anything. His voice is rough and hoarse from exertion, and he can feel a shiver go through Shindou’s body. He doesn’t want to think of what it could mean, but several possibilities run through his mind at once. Pleasure. Desire.

Revulsion.

“Sure,” Shindou answers in a small voice. Kiyoharu lifts himself off of his prone form, kneeling on the couch as he searches Shindou’s face for any clue as to what he’s thinking. As soon as he’s free, Shindou pushes himself upright. Kiyoharu can’t help but glance down to look at Shindou’s crotch; there’s a wet spot where he had been rubbing himself against Kiyoharu’s thigh. He feels a flash of pride at having gotten him off, but it’s quashed when Shindou turns and curls up into himself to cover the wetness. It’s only the thought that Shindou had reciprocated, he had held on to Kiyoharu and pulled his hand to touch his cock, that keeps Kiyoharu from bolting in abject embarrassment and shame.

Kiyoharu starts to feel the edge of a panic attack coming on, and before it happens he stands, grabbing his shirt where it was in a pile with Shindou’s on the floor before walking swiftly toward the bathroom and shutting the door decisively behind him. He leans against it for a long moment, before turning the water to the shower on and stripping his clothing off. Luckily, the dampness from his come only soaked partially through his boxer briefs so he doesn’t have to worry about anyone looking at him askance on the train ride home. He balls his boxers up, tossing them into the corner next to the door, dropping his jeans in front of the sink along with his shirt and socks. It’s going to be uncomfortable riding home commando, but compared to the eventual conversation waiting for him in the living room, taking the train without underwear rates a lot lower on the discomfort scale than it would normally.

Once there is nothing to occupy his attention, Kiyoharu finds himself wondering what the hell he’s going to do to salvage his friendship with Shindou. Sex had ruined his friendship with Inoue-senpai, after all. Now he can hardly look at him without remembering the times they’d been together and feeling sick with regret and rejection, and Inoue-senpai had started going out of his way to avoid Kiyoharu. Or at least it had felt like it. Shindou is his best friend; he would be devastated if the same thing happened with him.

Gripping the edges of the countertop, Kiyoharu stares at his reflection. His lips are red and swollen, and his hair -- which usually looks artfully mussed -- is smashed and clumped and looks a mess. He worries his lower lip between his teeth, wondering if there’s a magic spell to turn things back to when they were gloriously uncomplicated, before sighing and pushing himself away from the sink to walk over to the shower. The water is warm enough, and he ducks his head underneath the spray to wet it down. He had taken a shower that morning so technically he doesn’t need to wash his hair -- especially since Shindou has enough hair product to service a small army with extravagant haircare needs, so he should be able to fix it without much trouble -- but he needs every excuse he can get to postpone facing Shindou again just yet.

Shindou's shampoo is sitting on the ledge in the shower at chest level, a salon brand Kiyoharu would never have purchased for himself. He takes it, flips the lid open, and the soft scent of green apples hits him as he squeezes a palmful into his hand. Working it into a lather through his hair, he scrubs harder than necessary to try and force his mind to stay clear.

The funny thing about sense memories, though, is that no matter how much you try to not think about them, they can be brought back with the most innocuous things. And for Kiyoharu, he knows now as his cock stirs from the memory of how Shindou smelled of sweat and green apples that he might not be able to use this shampoo again without getting hard. Stubbornly he rinses his hair, then twists the knob to change the temperature of the water from hot to cold. Things are already awkward enough without him jerking off in Shindou’s shower to memories of what happened on the couch. He stifles a yelp as the water quickly goes cold, chilling his skin and wilting his erection before it has a chance to fully develop.

Shutting the water off, Kiyoharu steps out of the shower and grabs the first towel he can get his hands on, quickly drying off the cold water with a shiver. Goosebumps cover his entire body, but at least he's not hard any more. When he's dry, he leaves his body bare and drapes the towel over his head, giving it a vigorous rub to get the excess water out of his hair. He leaves the towel on his head when his hair is no longer dripping down his back, nudging his clothes out of the way as he moves to stand in front of the sink once more.

The mirror is fogged, and he can only see his silhouette through the condensation. It's just as well, since he doesn't have any intention of doing anything to his hair. With a wry half smile, he takes his index finger and runs it through the fog, the characters of his name emerging first, then Shindou's. He hasn't done anything like this since he was a kid, and even then it wasn't anything as ridiculously mushy as what he's just done.

Yashiro Kiyoharu + Shindou Hikaru.

Kiyoharu feels his cheeks redden, and he slaps his palm against the mirror, rubbing the evidence of his stupidity off of the mirror and hoping to whatever god is willing to listen that it won't show up again the next time Shindou has a shower.

There's a knock at the door, and before Kiyoharu can cover himself -- before he can even turn his head -- he hears the door handle turning and Shindou is barging in on him.

"Hey Yashiro I was wondering," he's saying as he walks in, "did you want to borrow -- oh my god." Kiyoharu has the presence of mind to snatch the towel off of his head to cover his dick, but he's not fast enough for Shindou to miss seeing his ass apparently. Wrapping the towel around his waist as he turns to glare at him, Kiyoharu fights a losing battle against the urge to blush. He can feel the heat down to his chest.

"Shindou," he says stiffly, "when you knock you're supposed to give the person a few seconds before barging in."

Shindou is looking anywhere but at him, his face red and looking like he's fighting a smile. Kiyoharu wonders what the smile means, and if he should be offended. It's not worth the energy though, so he leans against the counter, one hand holding his towel from slipping off his lips, the other rubbing at the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"Yeah, sorry," Shindou apologizes, before he looks at him again. Kiyoharu wonders how he's able to act as if nothing happened, and envies the skill. "I was just wondering if you wanted to borrow a pair of boxers since yours are probably kind of... you know." He looks away again, and Kiyoharu feels his blush deepening.

"Yeah, thanks. Sure, I'd appreciate that," he answers, tilting his head back to stare at the tiles of Shindou's ceiling so he doesn't have to look at him. Without warning, a soft bit of fabric hits his face, and the hand holding his towel moves to grab it, the coarse terrycloth slipping dangerously low on his hips. Before he can worry about flashing Shindou, though, he hears the door shut and footsteps retreating from the bathroom. Heaving a sigh of relief, Kiyoharu stares at the pair of boxers Shindou had thrown at him. They're not as juvenile as he remembers his friend's underwear being when they were teenagers, but the pattern of black and white polka dots along the waistband and the bottom hem make him roll his eyes.

He's grateful for the underwear, though, even if it is a little ridiculous. Slipping them on, Kiyoharu is surprised at how well they fit. Shindou always seems like he's a little smaller than him, but he supposes it's because Shindou is so much shorter than him. He quickly dons the rest of his clothing, hyper aware of the different feel of Shindou's boxers against his skin. It's sensual in a completely unexpected way, and he cups himself to adjust things into a more comfortable arrangement. The touch combined with the foreign intimacy of the cotton boxers and the knowledge that Shindou has worn them before is enough to stir his cock again, and he carefully moves his hand away before he encourages it and has to face Shindou with the hard on he had thought he'd avoided with the cold shower.

Kiyoharu takes a moment to comb through his hair with his fingers, slicking it back in a way he hasn't in more years than he can remember, certainly not since he started dyeing his hair in middle school. It accentuates the sharpness of his cheekbones, highlights the angles and planes of his face. It almost makes the person staring back at him in the mirror a stranger. He studies his reflection a moment longer before snorting at himself and shaking his head. He’s not quite ready to face Shindou, but he can’t put it off any longer. And if Shindou doesn’t want him then that’s fine. That’s perfectly fine. Kiyoharu’s worth isn’t tied to someone else finding him sexually attractive, no matter how badly he wants that person. He knows he’s pretty damn awesome, and that’s good enough for him no matter what. He turns around, finally exiting the bathroom and almost runs headlong into Shindou.

"Sorry," Kiyoharu apologizes, wondering why the hell he was just standing there. Shindou shrugs with a slight grin, his eyes darting up from Kiyoharu's chest to his face, the grin falling from his face as his mouth drops open slightly. It occurs to Kiyoharu that Shindou's never seen his hair like this. Every time they've roomed together for an event, he's taken the time to blow his hair dry and style it before leaving the bathroom. It's kind of nice to see Shindou so nonplussed about a simple change of appearance.

"Nice hair," Shindou says faintly. Kiyoharu smooths it back, amused despite being self-conscious. He can count on one hand the number of times he's seen Shindou speechless. They stare at one another for a few long seconds, before Shindou finds his smile again. "It kind of looks good."

"Thanks," Kiyoharu says, his brow furrowing. He appreciates the compliment, but Shindou's attitude is making him uneasy. He should be avoiding him or something, not complimenting his hair. Finally, he can't take it anymore and just lets himself speak his mind. "You're not mad or anything, are you?"

At his outburst, Shindou looks puzzled. "Huh?" Kiyoharu thinks he has no right to look that confused; after all, it's a straightforward question. "Oh," he says a beat later, "yeah I'm not mad." Kiyoharu can see Shindou's ears turn pink, and his heart thuds in his chest at how fetching it looks on him.

"How are you not mad?" he asks, apparently not able to leave well enough alone. As soon as the question is out of his mouth, he wishes he could take it back. He doesn't usually speak without thinking, but Shindou seems to be rubbing off on him.

Which is an unfortunate choice of phrase; Kiyoharu looks past Shindou, trying not to let his mind wander down that avenue.

Shindou huffs, drawing Kiyoharu's attention back to him. "I don't know, okay?" he says, exasperated. "Do you want me to be mad?"

Kiyoharu shakes his head, not even needing to think. "No, I don't want you to be mad."

"Okay then," Shindou says as if that settles it. Kiyoharu wonders if it could really be that simple. With anyone else, he would worry. But with Shindou, maybe things can be settled as easy as that.

"Yeah." Kiyoharu falls silent, and Shindou doesn’t say anything else to fill the gap in conversation. It’s a long, awkward stretch of time; ten seconds has never felt so much like ten hours as it does right now. Kiyoharu stares at the couch instead of Shindou, but it doesn’t give him any answers as to how to make the moment any less uncomfortable.

He’s trying to come up with an excuse that will let him leave without sounding completely lame when Shindou speaks up again. “This doesn’t change anything, right? We’re still best friends, right?” Kiyoharu blinks, looking over at Shindou with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah if you want to be,” he answers carefully. His stomach drops a little. He might not have much experience with relationships -- or whatever the hell this is, anyway -- but in the dramas his mother watches the word ‘friend’ usually spells death for romance. He knows real life isn’t a drama, but he doesn't have much experience on which to draw that says otherwise.

“Good,” Hikaru says with a small nod. “If this changed things with us I think I’d be kind of upset.”

Kiyoharu shakes his head, his mouth twisting into a wry smile. “No, my feelings have definitely not changed after this,” he says truthfully. He still feels the same longing for his best friend that he did before today.

“Oh,” Shindou says. His expression droops a little, and there’s a touch of disappointment in his voice. It might be wishful thinking on his part, but Kiyoharu doesn’t care. If there’s even the slightest chance that Shindou is disappointed that Kiyoharu might not feel more-than-friends feelings for him, that’s enough for him. Besides, he doesn’t have much left to lose. His dignity is in the bathroom with his soiled boxers.

“Shindou,” he says, mustering his courage, “I have a thing for you.” His boldness sends a shot of adrenaline rushing through him.

“Huh?” Shindou replies, his brows drawing together in confusion. All of a sudden, Kiyoharu realizes that this might have been a terrible idea rather than a brilliant one considering Shindou seems to have the romantic awareness of a sea urchin.

Scratch that, sea urchins actually manage to find mates with a minimum of difficulty.

“This was a terrible idea,” he reiterates, out loud this time.

“No wait,” Shindou says insistently, “what did you mean?”

The words only serve to reinforce Kiyoharu’s thoughts on Shindou’s denseness. “Are you kidding me?” he asks for a third time that hour. “Please tell me you’re kidding me.”

“Why would I kid you?” Shindou asks, looking completely serious. “Come on, just tell me.”

“You have got to be the most romantically stunted person I know in the world. Perhaps the universe.” Kiyoharu rubs at his temple with the fingertips of one hand.

“Hey!” Shindou says indignantly, his chin jutting out in a pout. It’s more than Kiyoharu can take, and since words are definitely not working he figures actions would paint a clearer picture for Shindou. Taking three steps to close the gap between the two of them, he steps into Shindou’s personal space and leans down, cupping Shindou’s chin with one hand as he captures his lips in a kiss.

His thumb strokes along the contour of Shindou’s cheekbone, and as he ends the kiss, he briefly rests his forehead against Shindou’s. “I have a _thing_ for you,” he repeats in a low voice.

Kiyoharu hears Shindou’s breath hitch, and he looks up at him as if he’s seeing him for the first time. It’s kind of funny, seeing Shindou show shyness after what happened earlier between them. He moves away, and Shindou breathes, “Ohhhh.”

He keeps eye contact with Shindou as he runs his hand through his still-damp hair. “So now you know.”

“Yeah,” Shindou says, his voice slightly stronger. He looks away, breaking eye contact with Kiyoharu as he rubs his neck. Kiyoharu doesn’t know what he’s going to say, or what he’s thinking about, but even with the adrenaline rush of his confession wearing off and leaving his hands trembling slightly he feels confident that if nothing else his friendship with Shindou will endure whatever it is that’s about to happen. “So do you want to get dinner or something?”

Kiyoharu smiles.


End file.
